Going Rogue
by TheTomFox
Summary: A band of reckless Assassins fail an important assignment and compromise the creed. As punishment, they are thrown out of the brotherhood and must fend for themselves. They must learn to stop their reckless habits and fight for redemption in the hopes that the creed will allow them to return. But sometimes, a reckless Assassin may be the answer…
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Night cloaked the great city of New York in darkness, with dim street lights doing little to brighten up the endless roads of the large city. Tall tower blocks were punctuated by the occasional window with the lights on, evidence that the occupants were awake. Somewhere in the city, a large scientific research complex was alive and buzzing. Scientists worked tireless inside, each wearing a pure white lab coat and name tag. Outside, armed guards patrolled the balconies and footpaths. Each armed with an assault rifle and flashlight. Strapped to their chest, they wore Kevlar body armour for protection against bullets. Most of the area around the facility was shrouded in darkness. Inside, a group of 4 scientists was escorting a man wearing a dark suit around the building, pointing excitedly at the many projects that were currently under development. The man wearing the dark suit was a tall, man with a classic moustache that yelled 'British' and he walked around with a black wooden cane with delicate designs of gold emblazoned on it, and he used in more for display than actual need. He checked his pocket watch on many occasions and he yawned regularly. In short, he was bored. He had no interest in science or anything of which the men spoke. He had come here for a meeting with the man in charge of this building, but the man had sent his scientists to take him on a tour of the facility as a delaying tactic. It did not work. All it did was make the man more and more angry. His face remained completely calm, however, acting as though he didn't care, not willing to give the owner the satisfaction of letting his rage show. Eventually, the scientists ran out of things to ramble on about, so the man politely asked through gritted teeth if he could see the owner now. The scientists could hear the tension in his voice, even if they could not see it in his face, so they conceded and took him to their boss' office. Upon arrival, everything changed. The pure white walls were replaced with dark red wallpaper and oak furniture. In a matter of corridors, the building had changed from a research facility to a mansion. They arrived at a set of oversized, dark wood door and one of the scientists knocked softly on the door. All 4 of the scientists shifted awkwardly from foot to foot as they waited for a reply, they were all visibly nervous. After a long pause, a soft voice could be heard saying "Enter." The lead scientist opened the door slightly and leant inside, asking his boss if he was ready to meet his guest. The scientist retracted his head and turned to the man.

"He's ready for you." He said.

The man walked in the office and the scientists hastily shut the doors and did their best to do so quietly, before hurrying off back the way they had come, eager to be free of this area of the building. Inside the office was like a palace. The ceiling was high enough to house a giant in the room with a huge skylight which offered a lovely view of the star filled night. A fireplace was against one wall with a fire crackling quietly within, providing the only source of light in the room. Portraits of massive scale adorned the walls and large arched windows lined the wall opposite the entrance. In front of the windows was a large oak desk with a high backed chair behind it. The gloom of the office meant that the man could not see who was sat in the chair, but he knew who it was.

"You're late." Purred the voice.

"I have your scientists to thank for that." The man replied. "They will drone on about anything to stall for time."

"You wound me." The voice said sarcastically, as soft as silk.

"You do not deny it."

"I have no need. You are right."

A figure stood from the chair and shuffled around the desk, shrouded in shadow. He stepped closer to the man in a constant pattern of step, clunk, step, clunk. As he approached, the fire cast mysterious shadows across the figure, and with each step, the fire seemed to roar more furiously. The figure stopped, just cloaked in shadow, inches away from the fire exposing him. Its hand emerged from the shadows and gestured to the 4 high backed leather chairs facing the fireplace. Only now did the man notice the other 2 people in the room, both sat by the fire, watching him intensely. The man took a seat next to the other 2, leaving a seat free for the figure in the shadows. Now, the man studied the other two people as intensely as they studied him. One was a blonde Russian woman with long flowing hair and thin lips with a very dark shade of purple lipstick. Her eyes were cold and dark and the man wondered how many people had seen those unpitying eyes in their final moments. She was tall and well-muscled, but not in an unattractive way. As a matter of fact, he found himself drawn to her. He could smell a faint trace of her perfume and could not help but being attracted to her, but he knew she would kill him in a heartbeat should she feel the need. Now he studied the other man, a short but very heavily built man who looked as though he crushed rocks with his bare hands. His face seemed to be too small for his head and his legs looked as though they couldn't support the weight of his upper body, but he was clearly very strong and was not a man to argue with. The figure in the shadows walked into the light now, but the high backed chair in which the man sat meant that he could not see the figure yet.

"So," the figure said, "We are at last all assembled. I trust you all had a pleasant trip?"

There was a gentle murmur of agreement between the three of them. The figure continued.

"You all know why you're here. Our science facilities are on the verge of a breakthrough and soon our foes for several centuries will at last be destroyed and we will no longer be forced to hide in the shadows."

The group seemed to get excited about this, clearly eager to end the age-old war and have peace on Earth at last. The figure stepped between the chairs now and approached the fireplace, becoming visible now to the group. The figure was an elderly man with wrinkled skin covering his face. Other than that, no part of his skin was visible. His hands were covered in soft, white gloves. He wore glasses that laid low on his long and narrow nose. His eyes were a dark grey and rimmed with deep bags under his eyes. His hair was little more than occasional tufts of snow white hair sprouting from his skull. He was tall and lean, and held his walking stick close to his left leg, of which the slight glimmer of a metal foot could be seen peeking out of his shoe. His right leg was completely normal, but his left leg was false and, combined with the walking stick, made a 'clunk' sound every step he took a step with that foot. He limped over to the fireplace and straightened the fixture that hung above it. Satisfied that it was now lined-up, he took a seat in the last remaining chair around the fireplace and the meeting began as the old grandfather clock chimed at midnight.

* * *

Outside, at guard station six, the two guards stationed there were getting all guards in their sector to report in.

"Dude," said one guard, "6-6-1 isn't reporting in. It's been five minutes. Should we send out a search team to investigate?"

"Give it five more minutes. If they haven't called in by then, then w-"

Suddenly, the radio tuned to life. "Guard station six, guard station six, this is 6-6-1, reporting in."

The first guard wheeled his chair away from their poker game and over to the radio and gave his reply.

"Copy that 6-6-1. You're five minutes late, any reason?"

"Negative, guard station six, just forgot I guess."

"Copy that. Try to be on time next time, over."

"Gotcha. 6-6-1 out."

The second guard looked at the first and simply said "Fucking amateurs…"

* * *

On a small pathway leading through a decorative garden, guard 6-6-1 was being dragged into a nearby bush, blood trickling from where the blade had pierced him between his ribs on his left side. The man dragging him was a guy of medium build wearing jeans and a jet black hoodie with the hood pulled up and black cloth tied across his face, concealing the lower portion of his face. Meanwhile, a shorter man wearing similar clothing was holding 6-6-1's radio.

"Gotcha. 6-6-1 out." He said into it, before turning it off.

The bigger man had now hidden the corpse of 6-6-1 in the bushes and pulled a water bottle from his backpack and, holding it close to the ground to avoid loud splashing, he poured it over the blood trail and it diluted slightly, becoming harder to notice. Once this was done, he placed the water bottle back and the pair jogged quietly on, sticking to cover and staying low to the ground.

* * *

Guard 3-2-6 was doing his patrol of the northern perimeter of the main building when he came up to a corner. He could have sworn he heard something stir just around the corner. Cautiously, he switched how he was holding his flashlight and pulled out his pistol. He edged closer and closer to the corner and when he was within striking distance, he heard a quiet whistle from the bushes behind him to his right. He whirled around and pointed his flashlight and pistol at the bushes when he sensed something move from the corner behind him. Before he could react, he felt a hand cover his mouth to stop him yelling for help and he felt a blade pierce his neck. Within seconds, he was dead and being dragged behind the corner. Another hooded man emerged from the bushes as his accomplice finished hiding the body.

* * *

Within about 15 minutes, approximately 20 guards were dead, their bodies hidden across the complex. Six hooded figures regrouped on top of the grandest building, around a large skylight looking down into a room filled with grandeur. They could see a fire crackling softly in the fireplace and four chairs gathered around it, each with a target seated within. The four occupants of the room seemed to be deep in conversation and were unlikely to look up at the skylight. Even if they did, they wouldn't see the six figured dressed mostly in black against the dark night's sky. They wore darkness around them, the perfect camouflage. Out of the six figures, only one was female. Most of the time, this caused no problems, but sometimes, it led to friction between them. This was one of those times.

"All I'm saying is, you all just view me as the token girl of the group, and you guys can't deny it!" she whispered.

"Would you just shut it? Now is not the time for arguments. We're in the middle of a delicate operation here!" one of the guys said.

"Well fuck you too!" she stabbed back, "At least I know when to be professional!"

"Shut the fuck up! You're going to get us caught! What is it, that time of the month again?!" another guy shot back.

"You didn't just say that!" she snapped, offended, "Come here you little shit!"

She leapt across the skylight, rugby tackling the youngest member of the six to the ground and the two of them grappled for several seconds.

"Stop it! Stop it!" the leader of the group said, aware that the two of them were making a lot of noise.

Another two members of the group dived in to break the two of them up, but ended up tangled in them and grappling as well. The fifth guy now rushed around the skylight as the four arguing members were now fighting desperately close to the skylight. He grabbed one of them to try to pull them the other way but the weight of all four of them were too much and when the person he grabbed pulled back in the opposite direction, they all stumbled into the leader, and the skylight. All six of them went crashing through the window and landed hard on the floor in a big heap with shards of glass raining down around them. The four targets they were sent to kill leapt to their feet, sending the armchairs skidding backwards, and dashed to the closest exit, yelling for security. Only the host of the meeting stopped at the doorway and looked back. The leader of the hooded group rolled free of the tangled mess of his groaning team and as he lay on the floor, clutching his ribs with a neat slash down his cheek, his eyes locked with the host and bitter hatred burned between the both of them. Without a word, the host closed the door and limped away. The hooded team clambered to their feet as two doors were kicked down and security burst into the room. They immediately took aim at the group and the leader flipped the desk, which they all took cover behind as splinters of wood were sheared off by whizzing bullets. With a fluid hand signal, the six of them broke cover and each ran to a window. As a fresh wave of bullets washed towards them, they each leapt out of a different window and without pausing, ran into the night. Within 30 minutes, security called off the search. Within an hour, the team were back at base.

* * *

"What the fuck happened?!" the leader of their order yelled at them. "You should all be ashamed! We watched what happen through their hacked security camera feeds. You infiltrated perfectly but you completely messed up the kill! You had a petty argument and fell through the fucking skylight! Never before have I known such reckless Assassins! You are not cut out for our order, therefore, you must leave…"

"But-" the leader of the six-man team began to protest.

"But nothing!" the leader of the brotherhood cut in. "You are hereby ordered to leave our order and forget all you know of us. If you do not, we will send _actual_ Assassins to silence you. Unless you can end your reckless ways, you will _never_ succeed. Now leave now before I have to end your sad existences personally!"

With a resigned nod from the six of them, they handed in their hidden blades and other equipment, collected their individual belongings and left The Farm. The Farm is the base of operations for the Assassins, where those who are born into the order but are too young to be trained are raised until they can be trained, then trained until they can kill, then kill until they die. Most Assassins leave the order when they are no longer strong enough to actively serve in the field. Some stay however and help in support operations. Some leave by dying in service of the order. To be forced out of the order was almost unheard of. As the six wannabe Assassins left The Farm, they hung their heads low in shame as they felt the stares of the other Assassins burning into the back of their skulls.

* * *

They spent the rest of the day driving away from The Farm in a plain white van. None of them said a word. Each of them blamed each other and themselves. About 2 hours into the journey, they had to pull over at an old gas station in the middle of nowhere to get more fuel. As the van pulled into a stop, the only girl of the group said the first words of the trip.

"We'd still be Assassins if you weren't such a sexist bitch, you know."

The guy she was talking to snapped back. "Well, Miranda, if you had shut the hell up and not complained about every little thing, I wouldn't have had to say anything to get you to shut up!"

Someone else added in, "If you'd both kept your mouths shut, we wouldn't have been kicked out!"

Within seconds, the situation had descended into an all-out argument between all of them besides the leader. But before long, he put a stop to it.

"QUIET! ALL OF YOU!" he bellowed. "It's no one person's fault. We can spend all day pointing fingers and blaming each other, but it's all of our faults! We're all to blame! And if we don't stop arguing and start working together as a team, we will never be allowed back into the brotherhood!"

All the other's stopped arguing and stared at him. The youngest of the team, Jimmy, hesitated before asking his question: "What do you mean, 'be allowed back?'"

"We are going to train harder and start working together, then we will intercept assassination contracts and complete them ourselves, until the brotherhood notices how far we have come and accept us back into the order with open arms!"

And so, their plan was set in motion to rise from the ashes of their past failures and be reborn as master Assassins. Like the phoenix, they would be reborn, again.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The legendary assassin, Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad, had once been shamed and forced to leave the brotherhood of Assassins, but through perseverance and skill, he hunted down and killed nine key Templars before returning to Masyaf and killing his former mentor Al Mualim. He regained his honour and rose once more to the rank of Master Assassin. Now, in modern day, a group of six killers followed in his footsteps. They were no longer proud Assassins. They were nothing more than common murderers and killers now. The group, who was made up of five men and one woman, had been driving for several hours north from the Farm, leaving Dakota and crossing the border into Canada. The continued north for several days, stopping in small towns to refuel and buy more food and supplies. Only one of them knew where they were going. The driver was the leader of this squad of former Assassins and he knew of a place they could hide and retrain. After a few days, they crossed into the northwest territories of Canada. The drove up the mountains and through the forests until they reached a lonely wooden cabin on one of the hills of a valley. There was no human life for miles and miles and the nearest town was 27 miles away. Other than the local wildlife, there was no other life in the area. The lodge was in the middle of a clearing surrounded by tall, oppressive fir trees, lightly caked in snow. The lodge itself was half buried in snow and the door was mostly blocked by the dazzlingly white snowpack. Animals stirred, aware of the newcomers presence, in the darkness of the forest.

* * *

"Where are we?" One of them asked.

"The middle of nowhere." Commented another.

"Exactly." The leader stated. "We're where no-one will ever find us. We're completely isolated."

"What will we do for food? What we have in the van should cover us for a few days, maybe, but what happens when it runs out?"

"We hunt." He replied. "We live off the land. Make the most of what we've got."

"Are you actually insane?!" The female killer asked, exasperated.

"A little bit." The leader consented, "But after all the shit we've been through, we all must be!"

"I blame Miranda." The youngest member of the group, Jimmy, shot at them.

"Well fuck you too!" She yelled back at him, jabbing him painfully in the ribs with her finger.

"If you two fought the enemy as much as you fight each other, the Templars wouldn't even exist right now…" James sighed.

"Stay out of this, asshole!" Miranda shrieked.

Within seconds, the whole situation had descended into another full-blown argument between them all.

"You see?" The leader, a man named Dante, stated. "All we do is bicker and fight amongst ourselves. We need to start co-operating and working together! We're not going to get anything done like this! That's the reason I brought us here! That's why! If we wanna survive, we have to work together!"

Everyone was momentarily silent as they pondered on his words. Everyone looked to the ground and shuffled uncomfortably from foot to foot as they realised he was right. The team's biggest weakness was themselves. Then they looked at each other; their teammates.

There was Miranda. Short yet lithe with a hard stern face with caring, motherly eyes. Her hair was midnight black and dropped dead-straight past her shoulders. Her makeup was light and only enhanced her natural beauty, yet she was more of a tom-boy than a stereotypical lady. She often felt like the only true girl of the group and would often call the others sexist if they gave her a task she did not like as a way of hiding her increasing laziness.

There was Jimmy. He was equally tall as Miranda and slightly chubby at the waist with sandy brown hair that fell in curls to frame his face. He was young and innocent, but he had trained to kill since he was young and would not lose sleep after killing his marks. His huge male ego would frequently cause arguments between himself and Miranda, leading to the pair arguing about anything on a daily occurrence.

There was James. Tall and scholarly, James always sought to find a reasonably solution to all problems using knowledge and logic. He was not afraid to kill and draw blood, but where it could be avoided, he would try his best to dodge any confrontation. His blonde hair was straight and separated down the middle, circular glasses framing his face. He was the only one of the group to go to university and he would often boast that fact to the others.

There was Lilith. A guy who often felt like a girl, Lilith was the team's best infiltrator. Her hair was long and straight, combed over to one side, shaved on the other, and dyed electric blue. She was often silent and heavily focused on any task they were given. Her weakness was that she was a bit of a loose cannon, often going solo, doing what she felt was best, which sometimes put the group in danger. This was probably as a result of her being trained as an infiltrator, leaving her in solitude as she made her way through enemy security to scout ahead. She was not used to working with the team.

There was Taylor. He was the team's muscle. Medium height but of a stocky build, he acted as the group's enforcer. When a target needed interrogating or a door needed kicking inwards, his chubby face and ginger hair would often be called to do the job. Originally from the Irish brotherhood, his accent made him stand out in a crowd, so he was often the quietest of the group, besides Lilith. His brutish personality and mind-set often meant he was charging headstrong into danger when careful planning and patience were key.

There was Dante. He was the leader of the group. His dashing silver hair belied his young age, though he was regularly considered a man of wisdom beyond his years. He was of medium height and build, and looked like an average man. However, he was an expert at parkour and a master of hand-to-hand combat. His biggest flaw was his lack of control over his team. He had repeatedly asked to be reassigned to a different team, and was always denied. Although it was not entirely his fault, he was partly responsible for the team's lack of focus and compatibility as he did little to solve internal arguments or carry out team practise sessions or team-building exercises. Now he was paying the price for his lack of natural leadership and control over his team.

Cold winter snow drifted slowly towards the pure white ground all around them. The bitter winter chill bit into them through their thick clothing. They all shivered against the extreme cold as their hairs stood on end.

"Right," Dante yelled above the howling, swirling wind. "Now that you're all quiet, shall we get started on the work that needs doing? Or would you all prefer we freeze to death in the night?"

As if on cue, the wind howled again, driving home another bolt of cold that reached for the former Assassins' hearts. A layer of snow cascaded off the roof of the decrepit wooden lodge. They all nodded, desiring work to at least keep them warm and their blood flowing.

"Good!" Dante said. "We've got about four hours until sunset. Now then, Jimmy, I want you to clear the snow away from the door of the lodge, so we can then get in, and then clear out any snow that has managed to get into the lodge. Fix any internal damage too. I'll help you with that later. Got it?"

"Yes, sir!" Jimmy saluted before dashing off to start his labour.

"Taylor! Find an axe and go into the forest, chop some logs into firewood for us."

"Aye…" Taylor nodded.

"James. You've always got your face in a book. How's your horticultural knowledge?"

"A bit rusty…" James admitted, adjusting his glasses. "Though I do see some plants I recognise."

"Good! Mind finding us something to eat tonight?"

"I'll get right to it!" James beamed, happy that his intellect was finally being put to good use.

"Lilith. I think there is a composite bow somewhere in the lodge. Acquire it. You're on hunting patrol."

Lilith only nodded before brushing one side of her hair out of her face.

"Miranda! Cleaning duties, and then you're in the kitchen!"

The group was momentarily quiet as they stared at Dante in shock and disbelief. Slowly, Dante's straight-faced expression creased into a smile before he burst out laughing.

"Sorry…" he laughed, wiping his tears away. "I couldn't resist! Miranda, I need you to help me unpack the food supplies and bedding. We're going to need to store it all somewhere and somewhere to sleep tonight too."

The group laughed nervously as they walked and jogged their separate ways to see to their assigned tasks.

* * *

Within only a few hours, Jimmy had cleared out the majority of the snow by the doorway and within the cabin, and had even made a small cut through the snow to act as a pathway to the door. Miranda and Dante had moved the majority of the supplies from the van to the lodge and had set up two small sleeping areas: one for the guys and one for the girls. In the kitchen, a fire was crackling quietly in a wood-fired stone oven cooked a small pot of bubbling stew and illuminated the dim cabin. The lodge cabin was moderately small and only had 5 rooms: a kitchen, two large bedrooms, a living space and a store room. All of this was condensed on a single floor. Several snowy hares hung from hanging racks in the kitchen and a small deer was strung up in the store room, all thanks to Lilith's efforts in the forest. Also in the store room was a large pile of logs, ready to be split into firewood, of which there was a small piles of next to the little oven. The team could thank Taylor for giving them a warm meal in their bellies and a snug place to sleep tonight. James was stationed at the cookery pot, adding several plants and herbs he had saved from the cold winter's bite into the pot, supplementing the boiling stew. The others were sat cross-legged in the living area, chatting amongst themselves. With no furniture to populate the space, they all had to sit on the floor or the rug, crowding around a fireplace that was burning just as brightly as in the kitchen. For the first time in a long time, they all were civil with one another. Not a single argument was raised. Even Lilith came out of her shell slightly and chatted kindly with the others. And everyone smiled and relaxed as James strolled in carrying bowls of herb and hare stew for everyone to enjoy. For the first time, they were all collectively working as a team and now they were reaping the benefits. Why had they never done this before? Dante's smile was the largest as he watched the others dive greedily into their meals. At last, his team were cooperating. Maybe they would prove themselves and earn a place back amongst the Assassins sooner than he thought. But soon he stopped observing them and tucked in to his meal himself, his stomach growling loudly to remind him of his hunger.

* * *

Several hours later, in the middle of the night, Dante silently made his way outside, cautious not to wake his sleeping team. The door creaked painfully loud as he opened it, stepped outside then closed it behind him. Listening intently for any sign that he had woken the others, he sighed with relief as he heard no movement inside. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes and an old lighter. He pulled one cigarette free from the packet before placing it in his mouth and replacing the packet in his pocket. He attempted several times to click the lighter to life, with no success.

"For fuck's sake…" He muttered in annoyance through the cigarette.

"Smoking is bad for your health you know…" A voice whispered from above.

Dante quickly whipped around in response and looked at the source of the voice. Sat up on the roof of the lodge was Lilith, perched and wrapped in a thick blanket, bow lay beside her. She smiled at him and tossed down a match. He caught it and nodded thankfully before striking it on the lodge wall, causing the match to flare up brightly. He held it up to his cigarette to light it, before shaking the flame out of existence and taking a long drag of his cigarette. He blew the smoke calmly out, smiling smugly from his sated urge. It had been too long.

"I didn't know you smoked." Lilith whispered.

"Not many people did." Dante replied, taking another drag. "I quit a few years ago. I guess all the stress had gotten to me." He laughed.

"We all cope in different ways." Lilith conceded.

"What about you? How do you cope?"

"I go hunting. I like feeling free and wild. I like the wind in my hair and the thrill of the hunt."

"Huh. I guess I'll have to join you sometime."

"I'd enjoy that…"

They both stood in silence for a while, taking in the details of the night. Dante took several more drags, enjoying each as much as the first.

"Do you really think we can do it?" Lilith asked, breaking the silence between them.

"Do what?"

"Earn our respect back. Re-join the brotherhood. Regain our honour. Be an actual team."

"Of course!" He exclaimed, still wary to stay quiet to avoid waking the others. "Why wouldn't we be able to do it?"

"Because to my knowledge, only one Assassin has ever done that, the great Altair! And he was still technically in the brotherhood. He was simply demoted to the lowest level novice within the order and forced to prove himself to regain his ranks once more. We have been kicked out of the brotherhood completely! And not only that but… it's us!"

"What's wrong with us?" Dante asked, tossing his cigarette to the ground, stamping it deeply into the snow.

"We can't work together. We're too different from one another. Our personalities clash too often. We don't cooperate. We don't work together. We're a terrible team!"

"We are not! Everyone pulled together this evening! Everyone one of us worked together as a team! We can survive together!"

"We may have come together to survive but we all worked alone. The only people who actually worked together was you and Miranda!"

"We are a good team and I will prove it! We will be Assassins once more, I promise you!"

"You don't see it, do you?" Lilith asked, grabbing her bow and hopping down from the roof. "You're so obsessed with joining the brotherhood as soon as possible that you can't see our flaws."

Dante wheeled around and grabbed Lilith by the throat, slamming her against the wall of the lodge. He placed his face right in front of her, a face a pure rage and frustration. Spittle flew from his mouth as he fought back the urge to yell at her. She could not breathe and frantically kicked out with her legs as he held her up and off the ground, and she tried to pull his hands off her neck. Her bow and quiver of arrows lay forgotten several feet away, lost in the initial struggle.

"How dare you doubt my skills as a leader! You are nothing! You don't know a thing about what I have to go through for this team! Don't you ever doubt me or the team again! Understand?"

He whispered the last part quietly in her ear, biting it softly.

Lilith nodded desperately as her legs kicked and twisted below her as she fought desperately for air.

He forced his mouth on to hers and his tongue onto hers, confusing the infiltrator as she continued her futile effort for air.

"Good." He spat, before releasing her throat, dropping her coughing and spluttering to the ground.

"I'll see you in the morning." He said, looking down at her in disgust. "Goodnight."

He marched back into the lodge, leaving Lilith gasping for air and wondering what just happened. When she had regained herself, she picked up her discarded bow and quiver and dashed off into the forest cloaked in midnight.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hey guys! It's back! Sorry it has taken so long to write another chapter for this. Just want to thank everyone for your continued support of my work. If you like my fics, please check out my profile and vote in the poll at the top. It would mean so much to me! Thank you all again, and I'll hopefully upload another chapter soon!**


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